


Sacrifice

by thenakednymph



Category: Predator (1987), Predators (2010)
Genre: F/M, I don't know, I just want to fuck the alien okay, Plotless porn, Predators as a film sucked, SUFFER WITH ME, and came around to bite them in the ass, and so this fic was born, and this was damn fun to write so I have to share, except she comes back as a hunter herself and kills everyone, fuck it, let's be clear though, motherfuckers left her out there to die, royally, that plan backfired, the only good thing to come out of that film was my new kink for aliens chained to rocks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:05:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd chained her to the stone and left her there for the monsters like some kind of sacrifice. As if that was going to save them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothiiiiiing~ 
> 
> As I said in the tags, Predators was a terrible fucking film. So here, I fixed it and threw in porn. For me. This is self indulgent trash but I can't possibly be the only one who wants to fuck the giant space lizard okay.

They tied her to the stone before stripping her bare, forcing her wrists into the shackles attached to a loop of metal pounded into the stone overhead. She barely manages to stand on her toes, easing the strain on her wrists but it won't last and she knows it. Tandra had been too terrified to scream for fear of drawing _them_ , but that didn't mean she couldn't fight back. She'd taken a bite out of one of them, tearing off his ear before another had knocked her senseless, the one she'd attacked taking the chance to bash her across the mouth. Blood stains her lips and chin, painting her chest, but she isn't sure if it's his or hers. Probably both. She touches the swollen wound to the inside of her cheek with her tongue and winces. At least it had stopped bleeding. And she doesn't seem to have lost any teeth so there's that. She considers it a win, if a small one.

She trembles in the frigid air, goosebumps rippling up her body in spite of the fire roaring a few yards away. Sweat slicks her skin and her throat feels raw and tight, clenched shut around a scream she's too afraid to free. She doesn't know how long she's been bound to the stone but when she'd come to, the others were gone, leaving her as a sacrifice for the creature, as if somehow that would earn them their favor. What fools. Her lips curl in disdain even as the wound in her mouth throbs. They were all going to die here.

A low hissing growl cuts through the air and her heart rate triples. They were here. Panic has her twisting and yanking at her restraints, the shackles digging deeper. Some dim part of her knows she's hurting herself but she can't stop. The light ripples a few feet away and she freezes, her warm breath steaming into the air.

Over the blood pounding in her ears she can hear boots crunching against the ground and she trembles. The silence is agonizing. What was it waiting for? She strains up on her toes, every muscle in her body stretched tight as she tries to twist free of the restraints. She cranes her head back, trying to see if there's some way to get loose. Maybe she can tear the ring free of the rock. She glances back and he's right there. The breath she would have used to feed a scream dies in her throat as she stares into the black eyes of the mask just inches away. How did she not notice it standing there? Her mind wants to scream but she's forgotten how to breathe. It's looking at her, watching, waiting. But for what?

She feels cold in the shadow of his colossal body and she trembles at the low growl building in his throat. The dual blades attached to the mechanism on his arm flick out and she flinches away, squeezing her eyes shut. She'd seen the same weapon used to gut her companions, memories of their deaths flashing through her mind as she waits expecting the final blow any moment.

The edge of the weapon whispers feather-light up the swell of her hip and she jerks reflexively away. The Predator hisses, slamming the palm of his hand against the stone next to her head and she screams, straining to move as far away from him as she can, her eyes still tightly closed. She can't hold back the whine slipping between her grinding teeth. She forces herself to hold still as he traces the blades up the side of her body, watching as the goosebumps came back, washing over her in waves, the fine hairs collecting the mist that hangs in the air. The tips of the weapon dimple the top of her thigh leaving two thin scratches across the surface of her skin and he presses harder, dragging the weapon across her leg but not hard enough to break the skin.

The blades dip between her thighs and the Predator growls. She resists the urge to press her legs together, knowing she'd only succeed in cutting herself. Her legs are locked in place and he growls in warning. When she doesn't move he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls, tearing a startled shriek from her. She widens her stance without conscious thought and he turns his hand, the back of the blades sliding upwards to press against the base of her pelvis, her lips resting between them. She's terrified.

The creature rocks the weapon gently, the tips scraping against the stone behind her with a dull scratch. In a series of slow, languid strokes, she's horrified to realize she's aroused, her body making slow movements against the blade. Adrenaline fogs her brain and she pants in fear, the fist in her hair too reminiscent of past memories and she squeezes her eyes shut. Fuck her hormones. This was not the time.

“Oh gods,” she breathes, barely aware she's even spoken. There's was a metallic hiss and she feels the heat of him vanish, dimly aware that she's mourning the loss. She open her eyes slowly, trying to think as the Predator reaches up, slowly removing its helmet and she gets a frightening view of its claws. The helmet drops to the ground with a heavy thunk and she's left staring into sharp yellow eyes. The intelligence she sees looking back at her is startling. She can hear his fingers working slowly against the catches of his pauldron, the heavy armor falling to the ground one piece at a time, disregarded.

Its mandibles flicker at her, opening in a hiss before he closes the distance between them in a rush. She's was too shocked to scream as he hauls her up by the hips until she's straddling him with a gasp, her legs wrapping around his waist automatically. She moans in relief as the pressure is taken off her wrists, sagging into his grip.

The creature growls at her in response, strong fingers flexing against her ass as he leans in, pressing his face to the crook of her neck and draws a deep breath, smelling her. She keens in fear at having his teeth so close to her throat and he growls. It isn't until he grinds against her, his erection pressing hard against her through the loin cloth that she realizes what his intentions are. It's stupid and obvious but she hadn't realized that he'd intended to fuck her, didn't even think it possible, that it was conceivable, and she keens again, high and tight around a scream, arching away from him. The creature clutches her closer, one arm sliding beneath her hips to support her weight, the other pressing firm and flat against her spine, pressing her against him. His fingers are spread wide and she can feel the tell tale pricks of his talons against her skin.

Her lips throb, hot and wet, heat building between her legs as the Predator re-positions her, lifting her gently before lowering her back down, rubbing her bodily against him. She's pressed flat to his chest, the mesh of his body suit teasing at her nipples and she gasps involuntarily. He thrusts forward, grinding against her over and over until the fabric of his loincloth is slick and wet between them.

Tandra's heart races in her chest, leaving her lightheaded and dizzy and she finds herself matching his rhythm, her body undulating against his. Her arms twitch in the restraints, trying to drop to his shoulders for better support, tugging irritably on the shackles when she can't. The creature knots its hand in her hair again, craning her head back and her hips stutter against him, lust flaring through her she doesn't have time to process.

With her legs locked around his waist the Predator releases her hips, reaching between them to loosen his loin cloth and tug it free. Her body is still twitching against his, the slick heat of her stroking his bare cock now and she whines, trying to draw him further into her. He releases her hair and catches her legs, unlocking them from around his waist and she falls. Her wrists jerk abruptly in the shackles as she drops and she cries out, glaring at him as she strains back up on her toes to ease the pain, getting her first real look at him.

He stands back, staring at her as she blinks sweat from her eyes, steam rolling of her skin into the cool air. His skin is a mottled green, firelight licking over him, and she wonders idly what he would taste like, half horrified by the very idea. His cock stands hard and erect, twitching and she bites her lips, staring at the wide, flushed length of him. He's ribbed, the head of his cock grooved with a deep slit. He's wider at the base, the skin darker and he's oddly hairless.

She rubs her thighs together, searching for some kind of friction at the sight of him, at the need pooling low and warm inside her. She's relieved to see he isn't sporting the same kind of spikes that decorate his shoulders around his genitals. That's not an experience she's eager to explore.

They stand for a moment studying each other, the Predator seeming almost as curious about her as she is about him. Tandra's chest heaves, half in fear, half in arousal before the Predator finally steps close, invading her personal space until their chests are touching, her breast rubbing against him with every jagged breath.

His breath stirs her hair and he growls, taking in the scent of her again and she wonders what he smells; pheromones, sex, arousal. She does a quick mental tally and realizes she's ovulating. Damn everything. Hormones or no she wants him and she closes her eyes, tipping her head back and baring her throat, her legs still moving, seeking friction.

He cups her ass with both hands, claws leaving red marks across her skin as he hauls her upright. She makes a sound of surprise, wrapping her hands around the chains over her head for better leverage as he aligns their bodies and slides inside her. She arches her back with a cry, panting in relief. Her body clenches around him reflexively, her legs locking about his waist. As if sensing her pain, but more than that, caring, he holds still, cock twitching as she catches her breath, adjusting to the foreign feeling of him inside her even as she revels in it. She rocks on him experimentally, biting her lip as she grows more comfortable, setting a pace and rhythm, her strokes becoming long and languid. She tries to reach for her clit, but only manages to tug on her shackles.

She bares her teeth in frustration, rattling the chains irritably. The creature grips her tighter, heedless of her distress and growls, his mandibles opening wide in a hiss as he takes the rhythm from her, thrusting into her, driving the breath from her lungs.

Still gripping her hips he pulls her down, grinding into her, her clit rubs against his stomach and she whines, struggling forward for more. She blinks her eyes open through the haze of lust and pleasure to see the two who'd left her chained to the stone watching wide-eyed, their mouths agape in horror.

Panting and blinking away the sweat in her eyes she grins, lifting and lowering her hips into the Predator's every thrust, losing herself in the sensation, matching his rhythm and moaning louder, keening as she reaches her climax, getting off on the performance as much as the sex.

She goes limp in his grasp as he grunts against her neck, her shoulders bouncing against the rock as he takes his pleasure from her. When she opens her eyes again the men are gone.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I am not sorry~

It's days before Tandra sees anyone again and by then she no longer cares about the pain in her wrists. She sags in the shackles, pus dripping from the open sores, her arms numb and tingling. She lost feeling in her hands after the first day. If she weren't looking up to check on them periodically she'd think they were no longer attached. She isn't sure, but she thinks her fingers are black.

Tandra's vision is fuzzy and her head feels like it's been stuffed full of cotton and someone's beating on it with a stick. It takes her several minutes to realize someone's standing in front of her. She only realizes it's one of _them_ when its claws fist in her hair and wrenches her head up, forcing her to look at it. Her legs cramp and shake beneath her and her dry throat clicks as she tries to swallow. Her head throbs and she winces against the light as the creature studies her, tilting her head first one direction and then the other. Her heart races, leaving her light headed and her cheeks flushed. She needs water. She's straining to ease the pain in her neck from the awkward angle and is seconds away from giving up when he releases her. She sags in the shackles, the scabs on her wrists sloughing open.

She thinks he's going to leave her there to die until he's lifting a skin to her mouth, one hand beneath her jaw to tip her head up and the water rushes over her. It shocks her into some level of wakefulness and she drinks hungrily, choking and coughing as the Predator releases her and her head drops heavily, water dripping from her face as she gasps for breath, not sure which she needs more.

She hears the chains rattle as the Predator releases one of the shackles. Her arm drops so fast the muscles cramp and she screams in pain, her dry throat stealing the sound. She whimpers as the blood begins to rush back down into the appendage. The creature seems to hesitate before wrapping one arm around her waist to support her, taking her weight as she sags forward, drawing dry, rapid breaths, her empty stomach heaving. She thinks she might be sick.

The creature releases the second shackle, this time holding her arm and lowering it slowly, though it does little to help. She trembles in pain, too dehydrated to cry and unable to move her arms. Exhausted, her vision blacks over and she's vaguely aware of being lifted into the air before she passes out.

~

When Tandra wakes the sores on her wrists are mostly healed, just red and covered in thin rough scabs, any sign of infection having vanished. She's almost afraid, but she flexes her fingers experimentally, sighing in relief when there's no pain and no obvious damage. There are several tubes in her arm, machines arranged around the room, their little lights flashing dully in the amber light. It's warm and she's surprisingly comfortable.

A wide window in the wall she's laying in front of, wider than she is tall, opens onto a stunning view of the planet. She'd appreciate it more if everything living on it hadn't been trying to kill her just days ago.

She shifts uncomfortably on the bare stone table, or maybe it's a bed, she's lying on. She's still nude, but she finds she's growing used to it. The doors swish open, drawing her attention and she thinks she recognizes the Predator that steps inside as the one who'd fucked her. She feels oddly embarrassed and looks away as he sits down beside her, first examining her wrists before moving on to other injuries. She watches him as he does, lifting her hand and striking the pads of each of her fingers with a talon, huffing, obviously pleased when each finger responds in turn.

He sets her hands carefully down when he's finished and then lifts each of her eyelids, apparently studying the dilation of her pupils. He nods firmly before taking a copper basin and wringing out a rag, beginning to wash her down from her head to her feet. If she didn't know any better she'd say he's pleased by the amount of blood she's covered in. His movements are slow and careful but methodical. It's a strange process, but oddly relaxing and she's fallen asleep again before he's finished.

~

Tandra bites her lip and tries not to moan. She's been on board the ship for so long she's lost track of the days and still doesn't know how many of them she spent asleep when the Predator first brought her here. Her body has healed from its injuries and she's beginning to put on more weight, but lying in bed for so long or wandering the room, the door of which has remained locked, or making one way conversation with her semi-regular visitor has proven fairly dull and she's bored. And horny. Very, very horny.

Her fingers slide between her lips, stroking slowly. Her fingers tease at her clit sending pulsing shivers of pleasure down to her toes until they curl as she gropes at one breast with her other hand. She bites back a smile, her fingers slipping inside with short, shallow thrusts. Her back arches off the bed and she pants wetly, her skin growing slick against the stone beneath her as she blindly finds the walnut texture of her g-spot. She abandons her breast and turns on her side, her hips rolling with her hand as her thighs rub back and forth, searching for more stimulation. Her strokes turn rapid, deeper, harder, her heart racing and she can feel her climax coming as she reaches for her clit with her other hand.

The doors hiss open and she gasps, jerking her hands away from herself and twisting on the table to face the Predator watching her. Her cheeks burn and she swallows thickly, still half aroused. His mandibles flare, tasting the air, tasting her and she can hear the low growl from across the room. Adrenaline has her heart hammering against her ribs and she can't help thinking about the last time they were together.

He moves slowly, his eyes on her as he sets the plate of food he's brought aside. She remembers the feeling of him inside her that night and the memory makes her wet. She tries to resist the urge to touch herself again, to do anything to fill the void, the need, but the idea of having an audience is too much. Feeling bold she lets her hand skim down her body and her fingers once again dip between her legs, her eyes still on the creature. He watches her, growling lowly as she begins to touch herself, her arousal beginning to build again.

It isn't until she's panting that he comes to stand at the end of the table, his hands coming to rest on her knees. She needs little coaxing to spread her legs so he can watch. Her eyes flutter shut and she bites her lip, focusing on her clit, half forgetting he's there as her hips stutter with her hand. Sliding his calloused palms down her thighs the Predator leans down and she freezes as he opens his mouth. He still terrifies her. She knows he could kill her in an instant, those teeth could take a lethal bite out of her and she jolts with surprise as he huffs a stream of warm breath over her sensitive lips. She nearly shrieks when the wet heat of his tongue slides over her and she pulls her hand away from her lips, letting his tongue lave over her fully, her whole body shuddering with the sensation.

She resists the urge to reach for him not knowing how he'll react but needing him, the heat of him closer, deeper. She drapes her legs over his shoulders, one of his hands wrapping up around the back of her thigh and she rocks into him with a moan. Her fingers rest lightly against the side of his head and he growls against her, the vibration bringing her up off the table with a half scream, the muscles in her body straining.

He pulls back and she goes limp, her head hitting the table with a hollow thunk. She knows it should hurt but she can't feel it through the waves of lust rolling over her. She blinks hazily when she can catch her breath enough to look at him. He rests his clawed thumb over her clit like he'd seen her do and rubs in small circles, gauging her reaction. She licks her lips, her head thumping back against the table as he continues to touch her, varying speeds and rhythms, watching her reactions, studying her, learning and somehow it's erotic.

She's content to let him get her off again, but revels in the feeling when he slides a finger inside her. He's surprisingly gentle, careful with his talons, flattening the pad of his finger against her inner wall but he's not deep enough, not where she wants him. She reaches blindly for him, covering his hand with her own, curling upwards to slide one of her own fingers in under his, adding pressure until he takes the hint, moving higher until he's pressing against her g-spot. She whines around a gasp, rocking against his hand, her fingers wrapped around his wrist. One hand clutches at his shoulders as he pumps into her, sliding another digit inside. She bites her lip, her inner walls clamping down around him trying to pull him in.

He snarls, tearing himself away from her leaving her stunned until she sees him shedding his armor, his cock tenting the fabric of his loincloth. She can't help the flush of excitement that washes over her as he strips. Fully nude he grabs her legs, yanking her down to the edge of the table, flipping her onto her stomach and pressing her into the stone. His grip is bruising and a spot on her cheek throbs as she writhes beneath him but then he's driving into her and she keens, the sound breaking on every thrust.

The force of him fucking her rocks her across the stone, bruising her hips and she pushes back against him searching for more, more pleasure, more pain, looking for a second release. One hand fists in her hair wrenching her head around and it's exactly what she needs. She comes with a scream, her body trembling and fluttering. Moments later he's following her, the wet slap of flesh on flesh filling the room. She can feel the wet heat of him as he spills inside her, his movements stilling with a growl. She goes limp beneath him, dragging in deep lungfuls of air and then he's turning her over again.

She's dead weight in his hands and he lifts her legs, placing them on his shoulders, his tongue laving over her again and she's so sensitive she's bucking up against him in seconds. When he can't draw enough of a reaction from her he slides two fingers inside her, as if demanding she come again and she can't say no.

She's barely aware of him leaving afterwards, her body half draped off the table as she tries to summon the energy to move.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, last update until I can't figure out what the hell is wrong with chapter 4. It does not want to come together.

“So, you have a name?” Tandra fiddles with the heavy mask she's seen so many of the Predator's wearing, rolling it idly in her hands. Her would-be-visitor-sometimes-lover ignores her, continuing to fiddle with what looks like a piece of armor, but she isn't sure. It's a little small for one of them based on their stature and physique but she doesn't ask. She wouldn't be able to understand him anyway.

“I mean you must have a name,” she goes on still fiddling with the mask. “I suppose the better question is can I pronounce it.” She laughs at her own dry joke, lifting the mask up to her face, letting out a surprised gasp when the visual screens flicker to life. “Oh,” she breathes, pressing her face further inside. “Sensitive to proximity,” she mutters, scanning the room through the helmet. “Clever.” The displays are in infrared, heat sensing and she understands now why they were able to find her and the others so easily. “So that's how you track us,” she whispers, lowering the mask. The screens go dark again and she nods to herself, impressed with the technology. “Makes sense.”

She sets the mask aside and lounges back on her hands, watching her companion work. “But back to my question. You got a name? I can't very well go around saying 'hey you'.” She snaps her fingers and gestures at him but he largely ignores her. “See? It'll never work. I mean I could go about doing that but-”

“Thai'kwei.”

Tandra blinks dumbly, her mouth hanging open, trying to make sense of what he's said. At least she thinks he's said it. Maybe she imagined it. She didn't think his vocal chords were capable of producing sounds and words she'd understand. She thought they'd communicated through a combination of body language, clicks, and hisses. She didn't know they'd had a verbal language beyond that. She feels shell shocked.

Tandra makes an odd sound of surprise, her hand thumping back to the table as she gapes at him. She hadn't expected a response to her rambling. She'd mostly been talking to fill the silence.

A slow smile spreads across her face, her heart leaping. She leans forward eagerly, delighted at the prospect of actual conversation. Or at the very least some form of communication. The sex is all well and good but sometimes you want to actually _talk_ to the person you're fucking. Or maybe that was just her. “You can understand me?”

The Predator turns back to his work and Tandra's shoulders fall, slightly put off by his dismissal, but she isn't ready to give up. “Tandra.” The Predator glances up at her and she taps her chest with her fingers. “Tandra,” she repeats. It's a little Tarzan and Jane but it seems to work. He turns to face her fully, his armor resting forgotten in his lap. He stares at her without blinking, his mandibles clicking together in that way that means he's studying her. She's picked up on that much at least.

“...an...ra.” The letters slur and run together through his mandibles, thrumming with his strange guttural vibrato but she's encouraged by the progress. She claps her hands, bouncing atop the table and laughing, feeling giddy.

“Yes! Yes, oh close enough, yes!” Tandra flings her arms around him and he stiffens, jerking back in surprise and she snatches her hands back, horrified at what she's done. Her cheeks burn and she ducks her head in sudden embarrassment, wondering if she's crossed some kind of boundary. “Sorry,” she mumbles. He probably thought she'd been trying to attack him. Did Predators even hug?

She feels the warm weight of his hand on her knee a moment later and peeks up at him from under her lashes, oddly bashful. He's shifted closer, her legs dangling down between his knees and it feels oddly intimate.

Strange, that after everything they'd done something so simple could make her heart skip. Somehow she's grown comfortable in his presence, even come to enjoy his company and she wonders at it. It wasn't been that long ago he and the others had been trying to kill her. And now they were taking care of her. She doesn't know what to make of it, that the monsters had helped her, while her own people, the humans, had left her to die in a desperate bid for their own lives.

“Aaaan'ra,” he tries again and she flushes with delight. She likes the way he rolls her name, somehow warm and affectionate.

He gestures to himself with one hand, the other still resting on her knee. “Thai'kwei.”

She frowns, her lips forming shapes without sound, struggling to wrap her tongue around the foreign language. She tips her head as if listening and he takes the cue, repeating his name for her.

“Thighk...way,” she manages, screwing up her face as she stumbles through it, the sound strange in her mouth. Her ears burn self-consciously as she struggles but he doesn't seem offended. He repeats his name more slowly, emphasizing the soft lilt and thrum she knows she'll never be able to recreate no matter how hard she tries but she appreciates it anyway. She furrows her eyebrows and tries again.

“Tttttthai'kwei.” She rolls her tongue, trying to approximate the thrum that seems to come naturally to him the best she can. She must come close because he throws his head back and laughs, much like she had, the sound echoing around the room, his mandibles flicking open and closed in what she hopes is a smile. He claps her on the shoulder and nods his eyes smiling in a way she does understand. If she didn't know any better she'd think he was proud.

Tandra guesses she's butchered the pronunciation completely, but hopes she's come close enough to get the point across. And even if she hasn't it had made him laugh and she considers that a win.

“It's nice to meet you Thai'kwei.” She can't hold back the giddy grin or the stupid impulse to hold out her hand. He glances between her and the hand she's stuck in his face. She has to lift his hand and fit it into hers so she can shake it and he gives her a strange look but she's too happy to care. He looks at her like shaking hands is the strangest tradition he's ever seen and she laughs again, high on delight and adrenaline. “At least now I know what to scream when you fuck me,” she teases with a wink. A wicked smile pulls at her lips and she scoots closer.

“Speaking of which...” she drawls, draping her arms around his shoulders. Her bare feet rest on the edge of his chair until she's bracketing his torso between her knees. “You've been ignoring me,” she purrs, her voice lightly scolds and she pouts. Thai'kwei's hands find her hips, watching her intently.

Tandra licks her lips, swallowing thickly and leans forward, indulging in a fleeting through that's plagued her since they'd met. She presses her lips hesitantly to his throat, her shoulders tense as she waits for his reaction. When he doesn't pull away or shove her off she places an open mouthed kiss to his skin, swiping her tongue over his pulse point. His skin is smooth and warm, something almost spicy tickling at her tongue. He tastes the way pine smoke and musk smell and she's immediately addicted to the taste of him.

She cups the other side of his throat with one hand, working at the tender skin with her teeth. A thrum builds in his chest, one hand hovering somewhere above her as he stiffens, likely worried she's going to try and tear out her throat. She sits back and he slowly blinks his eyes open, staring at her through a bleary haze.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks slowly, hoping he actually can understand her. She doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. He'd been kind to her, something she'd never expected and she wants to try and thank him the best way she can.

His hand finally settles on the back of her head, stroking down her hair and she takes it as a good sign, sweeping back in to suck another kiss just beneath his jaw. He tips his head back, baring his throat to her and she's floored by his display of trust, a wave of adrenaline leaving her feeling flushed and light headed. She slides fully into his lap, knocking the piece of armor to the floor with a loud clatter, sucking harder on the growing bruise she's leaving and rocks her hips forward. He grips her ass with one hand, the other still resting heavily on the back of her head, urging her on. She runs her tongue up his throat to his jaw, leaving a kiss there.

He's panting beneath her and she's oddly pleased, grinding against his growing erection just to hear him moan, the thrum vibrating in his throat. She presses her lips against him again to feel it. She switches sides, leaving another bruise on the other side of his throat, his other hand skimming down her back to her hip.

Tandra misses kisses, but is more than happy to share with him the wonders of a soft human mouth. She smiles against him as he grips her hips, grinding her down on his cock and she moans, needing him inside her. Next time, she thinks, next time she'll show him what her lips and tongue are really capable of, but for now she sits back, slapping his hands away. He snarls but she ignores it, scooting back on his knees to remove his loin cloth. When he realizes what she's doing he lifts his hips for her and she pulls the garment free, tossing it aside. She licks her lips and wraps her hand around his cock, her mouth watering as she strokes him, twisting her wrist. His hips stutter up into her hand and she grins.

“I guess those talons put a real damper on a good hand job huh?” she whispers, scooting as close as she can. She pumps her hand up and down, savoring the little grunts and moans he makes, his hands coming to rest on her hips once more, almost tentative, afraid she'll slap them away again. His claws drag over the swell of her ass, the sharp pinpricks of pain making her arch forward with a cry, the wet heat of her lips sliding against his cock.

A flush of desire leaves her hot and wanting and she's never wanted to kiss him more. She settles for latching her mouth onto his throat and he tips his head backs as she lifts herself, using the hand on his cock to guide him inside of her. She lets out a sound of relief, settling into the now familiar sensation of him making her whole.

Thei'kwei keens, a low whine building in his throat and she can't believe she's drawn the sound from him. She rolls her hips, savoring the feel of him inside her as he wraps his thick arms around her tiny waist, crushing her against his chest. Even from the chair he thrusts up into her and she loves the shock waves it sends up through her body.

Her inner walls clamp down around him, and she buries her face in his shoulder, panting into his neck, matching his rhythm as best she can but mostly just hanging on for the ride. He runs his nails down her back and she screams. He surges forward at the sound, hauling her into the air as he stands, lifting and dropping her onto his cock, his nails drawing blood from where he holds her and she can smell it in the air. Suddenly he stills, as if he can smell it too and he turns, sitting on the edge of the table, his grip on her gentling until his cradling her instead. He pulls his hand back, staring at the blood on the tips of is talons afraid he's hurt her but Tandra isn't having any of it. She yanks his hand and pulls one of his fingers into her mouth, running her tongue over the pad of the digit, sucking and bobbing up and down, tasting her own blood. She pulls away with one final lick from his palm to the tip of his finger and she feels him harden inside her. A low growl is building in his throat but Tandra wants more, harder, faster, and she's done playing nice.

Using her higher angle she shifts forward, baring her teeth and shoving one hand against his shoulder trying to knock him back. She isn't strong enough to lay him out like she wants, but he plays along, leaning back until he's lying stretched out across the table, his hands still too gentle as he holds her.

Tandra sinks her teeth into his throat with a growl, riding him as hard as she can, her fingers digging his his shoulders. He shifts beneath her and she bites harder, warning him. He growls but goes still and she soothes the abused skin with the flat of her tongue, a small reward for good behavior. His hands flex teasingly against her and she sits up, fucking herself on his cock, taking her please from him. Her weight presses down into his shoulders as she leans forward, her hands sliding against his skin, her nails scraping over his chest. She thought he was hard before, but he hardens inside her when she plays the dom and she grins, her hands sliding up over his throat.

“Like that do you,” she gasps, flicking dirty hair out of her face as her fingers search out his racing pulse. She adds pressure carefully, hoping his arteries are in the same place as a human's knowing she's pushing their boundaries. Breath play is dangerous, but she misses it and can't resist the urge to try adding it to their session. Maybe she can teach him. He blinks rapidly and she knows his vision is blacking over. She'd expected him to throw her off but he holds still, letting her do what she will and his trust turns her on more.

She loosens her grip when his eyes go wide and he drags in a ragged gasp, his cock twitching inside her.

“Didn't know you needed a master so badly,” she says. Her voice is ragged, her chest heaving with every breath. She rakes her nails down his chest again before sliding up to his shoulders and down his arms, gripping his wrists and guiding his hands up to her breasts, urging him to cup and fondle her. He's probably confused. She hasn't seen many other aliens on the ship but based on his anatomy she doubts their females have breasts. Still, he squeezes experimentally, the callouses of his palms teasing at her nipples and she whines. He's a fast study and she knows he'll catch on.

The door to her room slides open and her head whips around at the interruption. “What?” she snaps. The Predator standing in the doorway sneers at her in disgust as he sees what they're doing and there's some kind of exchange between him and Thei'kwei. He begins to lower his hands from her breasts, but she reaches up and holds him there, still glaring at the intruder. For good measure she rolls her hips continuing to ride Thei'kwei in spite of the interruption and his voice sounds oddly strained. There's some kind of brief argument between the two before Thei'kwei snarls and the intruder hisses, punching at some kind of control panel, the door slamming shut.

Tandra is instantly riding him harder, rubbing her fingers over her clit as he grips her breasts, her nipples pebbling against his palms. She leans forward, one hand resting on his chest and she gasps between mewls of pleasure, her body trembling as she struggles towards climax. She's so close.

As if sensing what she needs Thei'kwei presses one hand against her spine, dragging his talons down her breast, one of them catching on her nipple. She comes with a cry that ends on the last syllable of his name with a jagged gasp. She feel like she's vibrating apart as the waves of her orgasm wash over her.

Tandra feels the world tip and suddenly she's lying beneath him, her head bouncing off the table. Her shoulders are pressing down into the surface as he holds her hips aloft, fucking her through her aftershocks. He's coming before she can think straight again, not that she minds. He thrusts into her one last time before he stills with a grunt and shivers against her, still cradling her body. Slowly he lowers her limp form onto the table, his breath fanning across her skin as her chest heaves.

His tongue leaves a hot streak up between her breasts, tasting her sweat and she groans, half surprised by the action. Her eyes blink open and she stares at him blearily before he rests his face against the crook of her neck. She wraps her arms loosely around him, tipping her cheek against his and the moment is oddly tender.

She runs one hand over the organic dreads that protrude from the back of his skull like hair and he shivers, leaving her to wonder if he can feel it. She'll have to look into that later.

Tandra pulls him down until his body is resting flush against hers, folding her body around his. She presses a kiss to his cheek and whispers “good boy.”

She's half asleep when he finally scoops her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest and carries her from the room.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not satisfied with this chapter but I'm tired of screwing with it, so here you go. <3  
> Violence and decapitation ahead.

Thei-kwei crouches in the dense brush and Tandra follows, moving the way he taught her, without sound. She stills beside him and waits, the silence pressing in. She can't see or hear anything, but she's learned his senses are keener than hers and she trusts his judgment. The minutes stretch on and Tandra's legs are cramping as she sweats through her body paint in the humidity. She's ready to shift her weight to try and relieve the discomfort when two men stumble through the undergrowth, speaking in hushed whispers. Their clothes are tattered and stained a universal muddy grey Tandra's all too familiar with. The men keep glancing around, twitchy and nervous and she remembers feeling the same, once. She can practically taste their fear and she licks dry lips in anticipation.

She bares her teeth a moment later as she recognizes them, her face warping into a silent snarl. She's pleased to see the one still missing the ear she'd torn off as they'd chained her to the stone. The wound is still crusted with dried blood, swollen and inflamed and Tandra feels an odd sense of satisfaction at the sight. She remembers the taste of his blood in her mouth and her heart trips over with a surge of adrenaline.

Tandra wonders if Thei'kwei's brought her to them on purpose or if they were simply the closest prey. She casts him a suspicious look trying to read him, but she'll probably never know. Either way they're hers. Thei'kwei offers her the combi-stick, a collapsed spear-like weapon, but she shakes her head, gesturing for his knife instead. She turns it, hiding the pommel in her hand, the blade pressing against the underside of her arm. Shifting her weight to try and work some feeling back into her legs, Tandra takes a deep breath, launching herself forward with a scream.

She bursts through the brush, deliberately slipping in the mud, glancing back over her shoulder in a panic as she scrambles to her feet, making a mad dash for the men.

“Help me! You have to help me,” she shrieks, “they're here!” The men are frozen targets, paralyzed by her sudden appearance and the sound of her scream shattering the tense silence. She trips again just as she reaches them, crashing into the chest of the smaller one, driving the blade up into his abdomen again and again as he fumbles to catch her. They don't even have time to process what's happening as she continues to scream, plunging the blade deeper, using her own body to shield what she's doing from the one with the missing ear.

“Do you want to bring them all down on our heads?” One Ear hisses, pawing at her shoulder, trying to pull her back. “Shut up!”

Tandra guts the one she's holding up before releasing him and he stumbles away as she falls silent. He's clutching at the wound for a moment before his knees are collapsing, his viscera spilling out all over the ground.

One Ear stares at his friend dumbly as Tandra turns on him, blood slicking her arm. He blinks at her in horrified recognition and she sees it in his eyes the moment he recognizes her.

“You,” he breathes, the color draining from his face. “It's you.” He's running before she has time to react, Thei'kwei appearing beside her, his camouflage giving way with an electronic hiss. He passes her the fully extended combi-stick without a word and she tracks her target, the spear held aloft. She times her breathing as the man vanishes through the dense undergrowth and she lets the weapon fly. She hears the whistle of it cutting the air, the whoosh as it slips through the leaves and the hollow thunk as it finds its mark. There's a loud rustle and whump and then silence. Tandra waits for a moment, testing her surroundings before slinking silently after the man leaving no footprints behind.

She finds One Ear face down in the dirt, desperately trying to crawl away, the combi-stick through his shoulder. Judging by the wet gurgle, she's hit his lung. Tandra's put-off by having missed his heart, but it will have to do.

Planting one foot in his back she twists the weapon, driving it through his chest and down into the dirt, pinning him. One Ear shrieks, half in pain, half in terror as she plants a knee in his spine, yanking his head back, drawing the knife across his throat to silence him.

Thei'kwei kneels beside her and Tandra stops, waiting for her next lesson. He waves her hand away and she releases the handful of hair, letting One Ear's head flop down into a pool of blood. Thei'kwei presses his fingers along the back of the man's neck, searching. When he finds what he's looking for he takes her hand, pressing her fingers where he wants them. It takes her a moment but she nods, catching on.

“The vertebrae,” she says. “And the gaps between them.” He huffs in what she assumes is some form of affirmation before drawing his hands away. Tandra places the tip of the blade between the bones, Thei'kwei adjusting her grip on the knife and then nodding and she plunges it in, severing One Ear's spinal chord.

When she finishes decapitating him she holds the severed head triumphantly in her hands, a wide grin on her face. Her strokes are jagged and brutal but Thei'kwei grunts in satisfaction. It will do. They return to her first kill to repeat the process.

By the time they're done she's slick with blood and panting, brimming with pride as Thei'kwei smacks her on the shoulder, pleased with her work. As the adrenaline begins to taper off she notices the stinging in her hand and fingers and realizes the knife she'd used to gut the first man slipped when she'd stabbed him. Her hand had come down onto the blade and she'd cut herself.

She hisses, flexing her hand and wiping at the caked on dirt and blood inside the gash. Thei'kwei takes her hand, examining the wound as she flexes her fingers again, testing her range of motion. The wound is deeper than she'd thought, exposing muscle and tendons and her mind starts spinning, afraid of infection. Thei'kwei sits her down in the grass and opens the metal case strapped to his thigh.

Shuffling through the contents he eventually decides on some kind of powder, flicking the lid off and shaking some into the wound. Whatever it is it reacts with her blood, beginning to bubble and foam and Tandra screams, reeling backwards, trying to escape the pain.

Thei'kwei holds her tightly as fire licks up her arm, searing deep into her bones as the powder cauterizes the wound, sealing it. She pants as the pain slowly abates, her body sagging in relief and she's left in a cold sweat, Thei'kwei supporting her. When she goes limp he holds her injured hand aloft, poking at the wound with a finger. Tandra glares up at him, trying to yank her hand away again, but she stops when she realizes it doesn't hurt.

She watches in rapt fascination as he strokes his thumb over the new scar and she flexes her hand. There's a dull ache deep in the tendons and the newly formed skin is a little sensitive but that's all. She makes an impressed sounding hum, brushing her fingers over Thei'kwei's as he cradles her palm, thanking him. He leans slowly over her hand, his mandibles flicking open and he slicks his tongue over the scar.

Tandra jerks in surprise, a streak of desire flaring through her and her stomach clenches, fingers twitching. Her breathing shallows as he does it again, slowly, savoring her response, the quivering moan it draws from her as her toes curl. He moves to her wrist, lapping at the tacky blood there. A low whine escapes her, her eyes fluttering closed. Thei'kwei lays her down in the grass, his tongue laving over her bloody skin in slow reverent strokes and she realizes he's re-enacting his equivalent of a kiss. It makes her heart swell in a way she isn't ready to think about and her face softens.

She hooks her ankles behind his knees as he crawls over her, the wet heat of his tongue sliding over her throat. Tandra squirms beneath him, a familiar wet heat pooling between her legs. She tries to reach for him but Thei'kwei pins her hand to the ground and she jumps in surprise. She looks between her pinned hand to him, a slow grin spreading across her face.

She tugs experimentally but he doesn't let go. He's watching her intently and Tandra knows if she pulls any harder he'll release her, but she's more than content to stay where she is.

“Huh, I was actually planning on teaching you that one.” She smirks up at him, lounging into the grass, letting her body relax. “But it looks like you've already got it covered.”

She teases her one free hand up the side of his naked waist, her fingers catching on the weave of of his camouflage and he pins her second hand to the ground with the first. A low growl buzzes in the back of his throat in warning and she bites her lip around a smile. Her hips gyrate teasingly but he pulls away.

“Oh I like where this is going,” she purrs, her heel stroking up the inside of his calf, needing to feel more of him even as she enjoys the game.

Thei'kwei runs his tongue up the other side of her throat, hot and wet and her back arches into him. Tandra's legs try to pull him closer but he ignores her and she's not strong enough to make him grind against her. He pins both her wrists with one hand, the other cupping her breast through the material she'd used to bind them. The knot digs into her spine and Tandra shifts uncomfortably but it's obvious Thei'kwei has no intention of letting her up. He makes a face, pulling back with what looks like a sneer of distaste, his claws dragging down the material. He doesn't seem to like the breast band anymore than she does, but Tandra knows better than to go running through the forest without any kind of support.

Instead of flipping her over or letting her up to undo the know himself Thei'kwei simply pulls his knife free, sliding the flat of the blade up between her breasts and sawing at the material until it parts. Tandra arches her back and Thei'kwei pulls the fabric out from beneath her, tossing it aside. He slides one hand up and over her breast, gripping her firmly and she gasps, lifting her chest into his calloused palm. She makes a pleased little hum as he works his fingers over her, her nipple pebbling beneath his hand. She twists and whines, squirming beneath him, her legs trying to draw him closer.

Ducking his head, Thei'kwei's mandibles part as he opens his mouth. Tandra gasps in surprise at the four points of bone on his mandibles pricking the tender skin of her breast, the tips of his teeth resting dangerously around her nipple. Her toes curl and she can feel the wetness on her thighs, frustrated that he won't touch her.

She shifts her hips blindly, looking for anything to ease the pressure coiling inside her but Thei'kwei won't let her. Neither will he put his hands where she really wants them. She whines, begging for some kind of friction but he ignores her, his grip tightening on her breast almost painfully until she stills, albeit unhappily.

His tongue flicks over her, a reward for good behavior and she gasps again, her hips lifting so she can wrap her legs around his hips pulling him down against her and Thei'kwei bites down. She shrieks, her body trembling and she pushes her chest into him. His teeth graze teasingly over her breast as he stretches his jaw open, trying to draw more of her breast into his mouth.

His hand slides blindly down her ribs and under her loincloth, growling at how wet she is. He teases her slowly, sliding his fingers over her lips, continuing to work his mouth over her breast, pleasure building with pain and he slides his fingers inside her, turning his wrist so his thumb can find her clit. Tandra's coming apart in moments, her hips stuttering into his hand as she pants into her shoulder.

Thei'kwei feels her lips fluttering around his fingers as she orgasms, her body shaking in stuttering waves beneath him. She bites her shoulder to keep from screaming, hot breath panting wetly against her own skin. He releases her wrists slowly, leaning back to carefully coax her head around to face him.

Strings of saliva drip from his mouth and she groans at the sight, pumping her hips on the fingers he still has inside her as her head thunks back into the grass. His hand cups the side of her face and he leans down, running his tongue from her throat up over her cheek and she gasps wetly, still rocking her hips. He presses his fingers up against the walnut shaped mound inside her and her body twitches.

Thei'kwei pulls his fingers free and she keens in need, shivering as he reaches down to remove his armor. She licks her lips, watching him as he kneels above her, hands still in the grass over her head. She's never seen anything more beautiful.

Free of his armor he drapes himself over her again, his tongue slicking over her throat, thumb rubbing circles over her clit and she's already spreading her legs when he moves to slip inside her. She whines, shifting her hips up to meet him, desperate and needy.

Tandra's lips find his throat, clamping down over his pulse and worrying at the skin with her teeth and tongue in tandem with his thrusts. Her nails scrape along his back, her teeth leaving imprints in his skin. Thei'kwei drives into her, claws dragging over her already scarred hips in return and he snarls. He leans back to rest his hand over her throat, still deep within her, waiting, asking if this is what she wants. Tandra guides his fingers carefully into place, adding pressure until she can feel her pulse throbbing in her temples and it feels so good; him inside her sending shock waves of pleasure up through her body with every thrust. Her senses narrow until he's all she can feel, the throbbing in her ears drowning out sound, her vision blacking over until her world narrows to the points of fire along her skin, and the firm swell and shape of his cock. She's almost ready to pass out when she taps her fingers against his wrist and he releases her.

Blood rushes straight to her head and Tandra gasps, seeing stars. She's barely coherent of the sounds she's making as she rides the secondary high, dragging in a deep, shuddering gasp, high on waves of pleasure. She's dimply aware of his hips stuttering, his rhythm growing jagged and halting, his body stiffening above her.

He sags forward a moment later and Tandra whines when he pulls out, feeling raw. She feels her body go slack, like she's going to melt through the grass into the ground. Every part of her is languid and warm, loose after orgasm and it takes her a moment to think straight. Thei'kwei runs a comforting hand over her hair and she smiles, letting him know she's okay. She turns her face into his touch, nuzzling at his palm. She's exhausted, her body weak and pleasantly sore. Sweat dapples her skin and her camouflage has been turned to mud but she can't bring herself to care.

Thei'kwei drapes his body along hers, a low vibration in his chest she's come to recognize as affection and comfort. He rests his weight on his arms to keep from crushing her and she kisses his cheek, running one hand up his spine, savoring the warmth of him. He turns his face to the other side and she laughs, pressing a second kiss to his other cheek in delight. He huffs, rolling off of her in satisfaction, pulling her to her feet. It takes her a moment to find her legs and she grins at him.

They dress slowly, Tandra using her ruined breast band as a makeshift sling to carry her two trophies, tying them to her hip. Blood slides down her leg from the severed heads, flies already buzzing through the air, drawn to the gore.

Thei'kwei presses the combi-stick and knife she'd used to make her kills into her hands and she blinks up at him in surprise. A smile pulls at her mouth as she shoulders the weapon, securing the sheath to her thigh. She walks back to the ship with her head held high, carrying her new weapons with pride.

She's earned them.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We just got back from the Reunion which means I finally have internet again on my laptop and can post this. I probably shouldn't because it needs one last once over for spelling and stuff, but I'm in a shit mood because my brother is an ass. So I'm posting it now to make myself feel better. Cute fluffy shit.

With her hair beginning to dread and the layers of sweat, mud, and the improvised body paint Thei'kwei's provided, Tandra feels suitably unwashed.

“I need a bath like you would not believe,” she mutters as they make their way back to the ship. She tries to run a hand back through her hair but only manages to tangle her fingers in the knotted mass instead. She makes a sound akin to vomiting, her face twisting with disgust. She shakes her head, deciding enough is enough.

“Uh uh, nope, that's it.” She passes Thei'kwei the combi-stick, marching off through the foliage after the nearest water source. “I need a bath.” Thei'kwei blinks, slowly turning to follow after her. “You know, bath?” She mimes washing herself, wishing she knew the word for it in Yautja. She isn't sure he understands, but he guides her between the trees and in a few minutes they stumble across a river. Tandra leaves her trophies and a pile of clothes on the bank of a river, stripping in a matter of minutes. It's not ideal, but it'll have to do. Thei'kwei watches curiously as she wades in up to her hips, the water warmer than she'd expected, but in the thick heat it still feels good. She starts scrubbing at her arms, sloughing off the layers of grime. She starts sawing through her hair with the knife when Thei'kwei shouts behind her and she whirls around, ready to defend herself.

“What? What is it?” She casts her eyes about frantically but sees nothing. Thei'kwei is on his feet and into the water, taking her hair in his hands. He looks distressed, whining softly as he runs his fingers over the jagged slice in one of the dreads. He looks at her in confusion, stroking a claw down the dread, obviously confused.

“Oh,” Tandra breathes, reaching up to touch the fleshy appendages on the back of his skull. “You think they're like yours.” She squeezes his hand and sheathes the blade. “It doesn't hurt. See?”

She uses her thumb to work a hole into one of the looser sections of a dread, waggling it at him. “No feeling.” She stretches the dread out, tugging it between her fingers with a dull snap to demonstrate. Thei'kwei makes another nose, still distressed and she takes his hand, coaxing him to pinch her hair. When she doesn't scream he looks surprised, leaning closer and examining her hair with new found interest.

Tandra laughs and uses the knife to cut the end off one of the dreads. Thei'kwei looks uncomfortable at the gesture but when there's no blood he seems to accept it. She presses the severed dread into his hand, letting him play with it while she begins cutting the rest, letting them fall into the river.

Thankfully most of her hair hasn't locked up around the roots. She's not sure she'd be able to shave it so a ragged pixie will have to do. Thei'kwei seems content to watch her, moving back to his spot on the bank, rolling the dread between his fingers. She doesn't see him pocket it, but she suspects he does.

“I'd kill for a bar of soap right about now,” she mutters, more to herself than him. “Or a loofah. Living out here in the jungle is all well and good but I do miss my shampoo,” she calls over her shoulder. “Oh gods and a toothbrush,” she groans. “You do not want to know what my mouth tastes like right now.” She keeps up a steady flow of chatter even though Thei'kwei doesn't seem to be listening. Not that she minds, the chatter is more for her benefit that his anyway.

“Not that I'd go back,” she says. “Prison's not all it's cracked up to be.” She dunks her head beneath the water, scrubbing at her hair over and over until she can run her fingers through it again. “And it's not like I have anyone to go back _to._ ” She wipes water out of her face. _“_ Besides,” she shrugs one shoulder, a coy smile curling her lips, “the sex is better here.”

Thei'kwei huffs a laugh and she spins around to grin at him. “I knew you could understand me.” She thinks he smiles before beginning to tend to the combi-stick Tandra had left on the bank, cleaning the blood from the blade. Tandra goes back to scrubbing the layers of grime from her skin. It's not the greatest bath she's ever had but it's better than nothing and she's grateful for it.

When she's done she flops down in the grass beside Thei'kwei, stretching out in the sun to let her skin dry, content in the knowledge Thei'kwei will sense any danger long before it comes near. She smiles when she feels the tip of his talon dragging slowly over her stomach. She lies still, letting him trace out the planes and curves of her body, giggling when it tickles. He runs his claws over the spot again and she laughs, swatting him away and opening her eyes.

“What, aren't Yuatja ticklish?” He cocks his head like he doesn't understand and Tandra makes a face. “Huh, guess not. Well, humans are ticklish. And typically we don't appreciate it.” She tries to shove his hand away but Thei'kwei runs the nails of the other hand over the spot again and Tandra squeals. She tries to squirm away from him and he laughs, wrapping her in his arms, rolling her through the grass, trying to draw the sound from her again.

“Oh you tease!” She tries to twist away without success, laughing until there are tears in her eyes and she's left gasping, sniggering into his chest as he holds her. His chest rumbles beneath her as she settles against him, sighing as he runs a hand over her short hair and down her back. She falls asleep to the rumble of his laughter and the warmth of the sun on her skin.

 


End file.
